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Hazel Whyte

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Men Of Knoydart

A simple briefthought on Scottish Independance.

Were the outdatedunion not of some very high value to England and the English, why would they fight so to try to keep it?

There are only so many slices to a pie, for one to have more, another must have less.

Lastly - to those Scottish "Loyalists" - to whom are you loyal?Scots royalty died in the 1700's so it can be no Scots crown - And certainly not it appears to those who came before, that bled for Scotlandand her freedom !

Wha would be a traitor-knave?Wha can fill a coward's grave?Wha sae base as be a Slave?Let him turn and flie:

Wha for Scotland's king and law,Freedom's sword will strongly draw,Free-man stand, or free-man fa',Let him follow me.

By Oppression's woes and pains!By your Sons in servile chains!We will drain our dearest veins,But they shall be free!

Lay the proud Usurpers low!Tyrants fall in every foe!Liberty's in every blow!Let us Do - or Die!!!

Choose your destiny.

It was down by the farm of Scottas Lord Brocket walked one dayWhen he saw a sight that troubled him far more than he could sayFor the seven men of Knoydart were doing what they plannedThey'd staked their claims, they were digging drains on Brocket's private land

You bloody Reds, Lord Brocket yelled, What's this you're doing hereIt doesn't pay, as you'll find today, to insult an English peerYou're only Scottish half wits but I'll have you understandYou Highland swine, these hills are mine, this is all Lord Brocket's land

Then up spoke the men of Knoydart, Away and shut your trapFor threats from a Saxon brewer's boy we just don't give a rapNow we are all ex-servicemen who fought against the HunWe can tell our enemies by now - Brocket, you are one

When the noble lord he heard these words he turned purple in the faceHe said, These Scottish savages are Britain's black disgraceI know it's true I've let some few thousand acres go to potBut the lot I'd give to a London spiv before any bloody Scot

You're a crowd of tartan bolshies but I'll soon have you lickedI'll write to the Court of Session for an interim interdictI'll write to my London lawyer and he will understandOch, to hell with your London lawyer, we want our Scottish land

Then up spoke the men of Knoydart, You have no earthly rightFor this is the land of Scotland and not the Isle of WightWhen Scotland's proud Fianna wi' ten thousand lads is mannedWe'll show the world that Highlanders have a right tae Scottish land